Every New Beginning
by obliviousally
Summary: While the the final battle happens in Stull Cemetary, Poe suffers as well. Implied OC/FC relationship.


_I feel I should add some commentary here, as some events in this drabble might not make sense to those who don't know this character. Poe, aside from possessing the ability to see and communicate with spirits, tends to suffer badly when those close to her (family, lovers, friends) die. She's able to feel it and the level of 'close' she is with the person directly effects how badly it effects her. It's especially bad when it's more than just one person who passes, as well._

_As for why and how she's close to these people, well, it's mainly out of RP. I'm certainly not going to tout my OC above others or claim anything I babble about should be TTLY CANON, so try not to read into things too much. I really don't take throwing OCs into canon situations terribly seriously, it's all for fun and development._

_This takes place at the end of 'Swan Song'. Specifically, when almost everyone bites it. Poe is not involved (directly) because it's not her battle, but I wanted to touch on how it affected her even across the miles._

* * *

The feeling was familiar. That sickness in her stomach, like when you smell something overwhelmingly foul. The sensation before you vomit. You think you're prepared for the worst, but you're not. You never are.

She came to a stop in aisle five, near the sides and the rices and a large variety of soups. Cans of flavors like 'tomato soup with rice' and 'chunky sirloin with potatoes'. Inhaling sharply and reaching out for a shelf nearby, she waited for the feeling to pass. When it didn't, she sat her basket down and steadied herself. While she waited for a second time, she focused her gaze on the contents of her shopping trip. Fat, red strawberries and a package of pitas to snack on hummus with.

Faltering and almost losing her balance, she snapped her head up. Another familiar feeling, almost passing out. A wash of a lukewarm, almost clammy feeling running over her. The foremost thought in her mind was 'I have to get home'. No one wants to pass out in the grocery store, least of all one in New York City.

Unfortunately, that was the plan for today.

The sick feeling hit again and she covered her mouth with a hand as she felt, again, the strong urge to throw up. Then, pain. The first wave was all-encompassing. She knows, from past experiences, that sometimes the pain is specific. She can later pinpoint where it came from. But this, this was all over. Every pore on her body screamed with pain, like something was tearing her apart.

Dropping to her knees, she gasped. It's not as if she couldn't breath, she was perfectly capable of such. But it didn't feel like she could breath. It felt as if something was suffocating her, cutting off her precious oxygen supply.

To her, it felt as if time was passing in such a slow manner that she'd almost rather ask for death. But that's how these episodes always were. In the background, almost hazy and indistinguishable, she heard voices. If they were speaking to her, she couldn't reply. She couldn't even understand them. For all she knew, there was a crowd watching a young girl seemingly suffocate for no reason in front of a soup sale.

It was at least two minutes before she fully fell to the cool, pale grey tile of the grocery store. Another thirty seconds, which felt like hours, before she finally passed out.

—

A hospital was not where she expected to wake up. It would have been the logical conclusion, had she been in a frame of mind to make sense of what was happening at the time. Regardless of this, there she was, in a hospital bed with a plastic bracelet signifying that she'd been admitted at 8:45 PM. Looking at the clock in her dimly lit room, she realized that'd been seven hours earlier.

While she felt marginally better, something was still lingering and she had the feeling it wouldn't be something the hospital staff would be able to diagnose.

Pushing a light blue blanket off of her legs, she slowly swung them out of the bed, testing to see how her balance was faring. When she was sure she could walk, she wrapped a small hand around the metal of the IV stand and moved towards her door and out to the nurse's station nearby.

"Um, hello. I was wondering if you might have my possessions?" A careful inquiry to the young nurse seated behind the counter. Mostly, she didn't want to spook the girl at this quiet hour. "I didn't see them in my room and I need my cell phone."

The nurse, dark haired and green-eyed, looked up with slightly widened eyes. Marginally spooked, maybe it was one of her first nights on graveyard shift. Whichever it was, it passed from her as quickly as it had arrived and she gave a polite, but tired, smile to the blonde girl. "Sure thing, can I get your name?"

It's not like she expected the nurse to know who she was, but she hesitated a brief second, as if she might have forgotten her own name. "Poe. Poe Wyman." While the nurse went to collect whatever belongings were brought in with the girl, Poe glanced over to the muted TV, watching news scroll across on the closed captioning.

An earthquake in Portland, one in Boston. 7.6 and 8.1 respectively. Had those places ever even experienced earthquakes before? That wasn't all that as abuzz, either. A cyclone in Florida, wildfires in Los Angeles. The latter is generally nothing to be concerned about, those happen all the time.

The one thing that stood out was a severe and unseasonal temperature drop in Detroit.

The sick feeling returned, but not for the same reason as earlier in the night. This was the sort anyone who ever had the fear or worry of something very bad happening has likely felt.

Her free hand gripped the edge of the counter as she waited for it to pass. The nurse returned and gave her a concerned look before offering over Poe's belongings. A purse and its contents, as well as her clothes and jackets. Poe was thankful she hadn't gone down bad enough to justify anything being cut.

"Thank you." She offered to the nurse, then inquired of the news program, "Has this all happened recently?" It's not as if she watches the news a whole lot, maybe these things slipped under her radar. Other things have been more important to be concerned about these last few weeks.

"Yeah, most of the day. It's a little scary, feels like the whole world's falling apart or something."

Or something, indeed. Poe swallowed hard, thanking the nurse again and returning to her room with her things. Once she was back on her bed, she searched for her cell phone in her purse. Pulling it out, she practically fumbled trying to check her messages or missed calls.

There was one, left around 7:00 PM. From Bobby.

"Hey, sweetheart. I told Dean he should call you, but you know how he can be. We're driving into Detroit now and, I won't lie, I'm scared as hell. Whatever happens, keep yourself safe and don't be an idjit." Poe senses there's a bittersweet smile with that comment and the thought of it makes her tear up. "If…If we survive this, we'll do our best to get in contact with you. But if you don't hear from anyone, just…don't try making contact. It might not be who you want to talk to." A pause, longer and likely thoughtful. "I know you don't want to hear it, but be prepared for the worst. Stay safe."

Ending the call, Poe didn't delete the message, she couldn't bring herself to. What if that was the last she ever hears of them? A shaky breath, pulling her legs up on the bed as she tried her best to keep a hold of herself. She decided she would give them three days before she started thinking the worst, despite her gut telling her the worst had already happened. She couldn't bear the thought of losing any of them. They'd become family to her and she knew from personal experience that losing close family was an awful thing.

Now, however, there was nothing she could do. Against her better judgment and what she really wanted to do (which was drive to Detroit and be prepared to kick ass), she curled up in her bed, pulling the light blanket around her. She would sleep and she would wait the longest wait in the world.


End file.
